


From Beneath You It Devours

by SnowLeopard167



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, Eventual Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle Jr. Romance, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hermione is a child at the start of this, I will add more tags as I go along, Magic, Mentorship, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, Possessive Behavior, Potential Dark Hermione, Powerful Hermione, Sane Voldemort, and potentially Volmione, at least that's the plan, but don't expect it for quite awhile, but he is still very much himself, but please expect, if that bothers you, super slow burn, then this is not the story for you, though that's a bit obvious in my opinion, tomione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:52:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowLeopard167/pseuds/SnowLeopard167
Summary: Hermione wants a friend. She gets one, but he isn't exactly what she expected.





	1. A Birthday Wish

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi all, this is my first foray into writing Harry Potter fanfiction after reading many over the years. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I obviously own nothing, except any original characters if I eventually choose to add them. This story isn't finished yet, so I am not sure what warnings to put on it but expect it to be dark at times, Voldemort to be sane but still very much himself, and for it to diverge from canon. Hermione may also end up dark, but at the very least expect a morally grey Hermione.
> 
> I am rating this M and tagging it with what I expect this story to have. There will be romance eventually, but not for a very long time. Just wanted to warn you now. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Chapter 1

It was Hermione's birthday and no one had come to her party.

She thought that at least Jessica would come. The two girls sat together sometimes and read, or walked home from school together. They were neighbors and Hermione had thought they were actually becoming quite good friends. She knew now that she had been mistaken.

Hermione was upset with herself. She should have realized that Jessica never hung out with her on the playground or anywhere in public. It was obvious now that no one wanted to be seen with the "know it all", "the freak", the "buck-toothed loser", not even someone that she thought was her friend.

Hermione stared at her cake, at the 8 candles that were beginning to burn down as she held in her tears. She could see her parents watching her out of the corner of her eye. Her father was not hiding his anger at this treatment of his daughter well, while her mother looked terribly sad.

Her mum had always assured Hermione that "she would make friends eventually", that "the other children were too young to see her potential", and that "she was amazing". Hermione was not sure if she believed her mother. She was too intelligent to believe in platitudes. 

She was in a bit of a daze. This was the first birthday party she had ever invited school friends to and no one had come.

She continued to stare at the candles and she knew that she should make a wish, but at this point she didn't know what to wish for.

All of sudden, it was obvious to her what she should wish for. She wanted a friend, someone who would read with her, talk to her about their interests, share her intelligence, and most of all understand her.

She did want a friend, but she didn't want someone that would pretend like Jessica or that she would lose to the more popular kids when they learned that books and learning for learning's sake would always be her priorities.

Hermione was intelligent enough to know that a wish on birthday candles did not usually come true. She'd wished for a friend before and it hadn't panned out. She thought Jessica had been her long wished for friend, but that had all been a lie. There had been girls before Jessica, ones that were did things much crueler than just pretending to be Hermione's friend, but she did not even want to think about them.

This would be the last time.

If this didn't work, then Hermione resigned herself to never having a friend or at least not any time soon. She closed her eyes and articulated what she wanted to the best of her ability.

"I wish for a friend. Someone intelligent, kind to me, and able to hold a conversation. Someone who will never leave me, no matter what. I know that I'm not supposed to wish for anything else, but I wish for the power to keep this friend, to hold their interest, and the power to never let them leave me."

She held the wish in her mind and concentrated on it. Hermione wanted it to come true with every fiber of her being. She pictured it coming true, held all of her desires close to herself, and then blew out the candles. As she blew out the candles, she pictured the wish flying out into the world and coming true.

The lights flickered for a moment, but then nothing else happened.

Hermione let out an inaudible sigh as her father came closer and straightened her party hat.

"Looks like that was a good wish, sprite. I won't ask you to tell me, but I hope it comes true. You deserve everything you wish for and more, and you know I'm not just saying that. Let's have some cake, my Hermione."

"I'll get some plates, Hermione love. Then, we'll have some cake for our lovely smart birthday girl", her mum said.

She leaned in closer to whisper in Hermione's ear, "They don't know what they're missing, darling." She went towards the kitchen to get utensils and plates, directing a smile at Hermione as she left the room.

The Grangers enjoyed the rest of the night and Hermione opened her presents, books the lot of them, and she couldn't be happier with how well her parents knew her. There were at least two people in her life who would always love her, and Hermione was so thankful for that even as she couldn't help but wish for a friend.

Hermione firmly put her wish out of her mind. As much as she hoped for it to come true, she had resigned herself to the fact that it never would.

Hermione went to sleep that night, one year older and certainly wiser, content in the knowledge that at least her parents loved her.

Hermione fell asleep easily with no knowledge that her wish would be coming true the very next day, just not quite in the way she expected.


	2. Wish Fulfillment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I sincerely apologize for the delay in this chapter. I had a big exam at the end of June that took up all of my time. This story will not be abandoned, even if updating is a bit slow at times. The title by the way is from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, one of my all- time favorite shows.
> 
> Oh yes, I don't own Harry Potter, but I do write/own this story.
> 
> All mistakes are mine. There are a few quotes adapted from the books/movies in here, and these are denoted by italics.

Chapter 2

Lord Voldemort floated through the wilds of Albania, passing both beech and fir trees and causing leaves to shrivel and die as he went. He was radiating malevolence and dark energy as he thought about that Halloween night in Godric’s Hollow, the night that had cost him everything. He was contemplating the revenge he would obtain against Dumbledore and perhaps the Potter child. He had not decided what to do about the Potter boy yet, but Albus Dumbledore would suffer.

He had spent the past seven years thinking, planning, and plotting, not just solely contemplating his revenge. Once he regained his true form and the full scope of his powers, he would not make the same mistakes. He did not know what he had been thinking. He had gone to Godric’s Hollow to kill a baby because of a prophecy. A prophecy?! He knew that prophecies were often self-fulfilling and in his arrogance, he had marked a baby as his equal and fulfilled the first condition of the prophecy.

Of course, Lord Voldemort was still confident that he was one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world, if not the most powerful, but even he could admit when he made mistakes. It would be a marker of a madman if he could not and while Voldemort was many things, he could say with certainty that he was not mad. He would admit when he made mistakes, and then never make them again.

He had so many plans and he knew that he would be able to make them come true, but he would have regain his power first. Nothing would stop Lord Voldemort from gaining power once again.

He was _less than a spirit, less than the meanest ghost, but still he was alive_.

He was very much alive and he would not rest. He would obtain a body, and he would not fail this time in his quest for power. After all, _there was only power and those too weak to seek it._ He was the farthest thing from weak, which may have been some of his arrogance coming out again, but he had faced many obstacles as a boy as well as after he became a man and had overcome them all. This time would be no different. It was only a matter of time.

 The remote forests of Albania were no place for a Dark Lord of his caliber.  This was why Voldemort was always plotting. There was nothing else to do at the moment, and it wouldn’t do for his wits to dull.

His magic had told him to wait and so he was waiting.  Something was going to happen soon, something that would set him on his new path to glory. He had disregarded the warnings and feelings of his magic before and look where it had gotten him, so he was determined to never do so again.

Voldemort was about to attempt to find a snake and convince it to go into the closest town and bring back more news for him, when he felt it. It was time. Time for what he didn’t know, but he felt the first stirrings of excitement and curiosity since that Halloween night.

Something was pulling him away and he felt compelled to follow it. He put up a token resistance of course. Nothing and no one could command Lord Voldemort, but the pull was almost irresistible. Was this what his magic had been telling him to wait for?

“What was calling him? What or who had the power to summon Lord Voldemort?”

He let his curiosity get the better of him and relaxed, allowing himself to be pulled to whatever destination the force as well as his magic had in mind for him, disappearing without a sound.

The dead leaves continued to dance in the wind before moving on, eliminating all traces of Lord Voldemort from that quiet Albanian forest.  

* * *

 

Hermione slept well that night, better than she had expected. She had been more upset than she realized last night. Once her parents had tucked her into bed and wished her one final happy birthday, she had cried herself to sleep as silently as she could.

In the quiet stillness of her bedroom, she had felt lonelier than ever. If she had friends, then they might have had a sleepover that night with laughter, candy, and movies. Instead, she wondered if she would always be alone. This just made her cry harder, which she muffled with a pillow. She didn’t want to worry Mum and Dad after all.

Today was Saturday, so Hermione planned to spend the day reading one of her new books. She thought that “Wyrd Sisters”, the latest Terry Pratchett novel, would be a great one to start with, then maybe she’d move onto one of her new Shakespeare plays. There were so many choices, and Hermione knew that she would be able to spend the whole day reading. She couldn’t wait.

Books were her friends in a way that her fellow students were not. Books showed her whole new worlds and took her on fun adventures. If there was anything Hermione had learned, then it was the fact that books would always be there for her no matter what.

She was reading “Wyrd Sisters” and enjoying it immensely. It was a fanciful pastime to read books about magic as opposed to science or logic, but that didn’t bother Hermione. Terry Pratchett always had some application to the real world in a way that was difficult to predict before beginning the book.

She enjoyed books about magic especially because ever since she was small, she could remember little things that had always happened when she was angry or scared, things she couldn’t control.  She knew that Mum and Dad had noticed, but they had never brought it up. It was almost as though if no one talked about the little things that happened around Hermione, then maybe they would just go away. Out of sight, out of mind seemed to be the motto of her family at the moment.

One of the incidents had occurred just yesterday. After Hermione stood outside her house forlornly for more than an hour, party hat in place over riotous curls, she finally figured out that no one was coming.

 It made her want to cry, but it also made her angry. It just made her so mad. She didn’t deserve this. She was a good person and would be a good friend if any of the other kids gave her a chance. That was all she needed, just a chance to show what kind of person she was.

In her upset, she took her party hat off and stomped on it. It was juvenile of her to throw a tantrum like that, but she couldn’t help it. What happened next surprised her in some ways, but didn’t in the slightest in others. Things like this had happened before after all, just not very often.

Jessica was her neighbor from across the street, which just made the betrayal more upsetting, and from where she stood Hermione could see the rose bushes that Jessica had told her that she tended as one of her chores. Hermione knew that Jessica was proud of those roses, even though she hadn’t said it, but Hermione knew. Sometimes, she could sense people’s feelings in a way that she couldn’t explain.  

She found herself staring at the roses, mesmerized by their color, and somewhere inside her she wanted Jessica to hurt like she hurt. Out of nowhere, the roses were suddenly on fire. The fire spread from rose bush to rose bush, burning and blackening them in a way that in her almost trance she found beautiful. In their death, the roses seemed even more striking.

Hermione then realized what she was doing, that she had set her neighbor’s rose bushes on fire, and she began to tear up. She hadn’t meant to do that. What if it had spread to the house without her realizing it?

She didn’t mean it. She wanted it to stop, right now.

The fire stopped almost immediately, leaving the ashes of the roses in its wake. She took a deep breath and went to pick up her flattened party hat as quickly as possible when a larger hand beat her to it.

“I think we can get you another party hat, sprite.” her dad said, “We saw you stomp on it. No one’s coming, are they love?”

“No, Daddy. They’re not.” Hermione tremulously said, her voice not rising above a whisper. She hoped her parents hadn’t seen what happened after her little tantrum. She scrutinized her father, looking for any sign that he had seen the rose bushes burning. Her Dad didn’t take his eyes off Hermione, looking at her empathetically.

Her Daddy smiled at her and picked her up in his arms. “Alright, my little sprite. Let’s go inside and get you another party hat. Why don’t we play some Trivial Pursuit and enjoy the rest of your birthday, hmm?”

He began to walk them both inside and Hermione hid her face in his chest, ostensibly to control her tears, but it was really to conceal a little sigh and an involuntary smile. He hadn’t seen the roses aflame. She wasn’t in trouble.

As they went inside, Hermione heard a little scream that she recognized as Jessica’s as her neighbor saw what had happened to her prized roses. Without Hermione’s knowledge, the smile grew bigger.

* * *

 

Hermione continued to progress through “Wyrd Sisters”, enjoying the antics of Nanny Ogg, Magrat, and Granny Weatherwax as well as their feats of magic, when the lights in her bedroom began to flicker. It felt like all of the air was being sucked out of the room. Hermione felt as though she couldn’t breathe and she began to gasp.

Hermione didn’t know how to react and began to try to make her way to the door as fast as she could, dropping her book to the floor. She wanted to shout for her Mum, but couldn’t find her voice. Her head ached and Hermione felt like she was going to faint.

All of a sudden, the lights in her room went out and all was dark. There was a pop, then a sudden release of pressure in the room and Hermione felt like she could breathe again. She took a large gulp of air and clutched her chest.

She was so scared and didn’t know what was going on. She gathered her voice to shout for her Mum and Dad when the lights turned back on.  

Hermione blinked at the abrupt brightness, shielding her eyes. The light burned.  When she adjusted to the sudden brightness, she couldn’t help but stare and had to stop herself from screaming. She was eight now, she was mature, and she did not have to scream for Mum and Dad at every little thing, even if it was something scary. She could handle this.

There was something in the corner of her room. It looked like a shadow, a patch of darkness consuming the light. The shadow almost seemed to sigh then began to unfurl, stretching higher and higher. It almost looked like the shape of a man, a man who slowly opened his eyes to reveal scarlet irises.

Hermione did squeak then. She couldn’t help it. There was a man-shadow thing in her room with red eyes, red eyes like the blood that freshly flowed whenever she injured herself.

She took an involuntary step back, her hand on the doorknob about to wrench it open and run, when the shadow spoke in a deep hissing voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“You, girl. What is this place? Who are you?! Did you summon me?”

Hermione gathered herself. Maybe if she answered him, then he’d go away.

“Hello, sir. You’re in my bedroom. I’m not sure how you got here. You think you were summoned?” There that sounded mature and intelligent enough, Hermione assured herself. She wanted to be as polite as possible, Mum had always told her to be courteous to everyone, even if this entity had not been invited.

The shadow seemed to swirl as the man, shadow thing? A creature of shadow and flame? Hermione did not know what to call him, closed his eyes in contemplation. There was silence. Hermione let the silence continue. She did not want to interrupt when what looked an adult was thinking.

“I feel the magic here,” the shadow said almost to himself, “You summoned me, but how? An untrained witch, a Muggleborn one at that. Hmm. What is your name, little witch?”

Hermione didn’t think she had heard him correctly. Muggleborn wasn’t an actual term. She would know. She swallowed hard and drew herself up to her full unimpressive height.

“I’m not little! I’m tall for my age.” she exclaimed.

“Yes of course you are, but you are still little compared to me. Are you not?” The man’s voice sounded almost amused now. “You didn’t answer my question, little witch.”

“Stop calling me that! Fine, _I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?”_

“My name is not often spoken aloud by sensible people and you strike me as a sensible girl, but you may call me Marvolo.”

Hermione couldn’t help but stare at the man-shadow thing. She knew that gawking was rude, but he was actually being polite to her and he had an indulgent air about him almost. This was not what she had expected when she had seen the ominous shadow in her room. She had kind of expected to be eaten before she had the time to scream if she was being honest with herself. She got the impression that the man was smirking for no reason at all. It’s not as though he could read her thoughts. That wasn’t possible. Was it?

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort couldn’t help but be somewhat amused. An underage Muggleborn witch had summoned him from Albania to her bedroom by accident. What a display of power. How intriguing. This was the first time he had been truly interested in something for years. He scanned her room, taking in the books and the evidence of a meticulous and organized personality. He discretely eyed the girl herself, taking in the bushy hair and the bucked teeth. He disregarded that for the moment, the teeth could be fixed with a little magic, and he knew that her hair stood up so much and was so wild because of her apparent power. Magic often escaped in any way it could, and this young Hermione Granger seemed to have it in spades. He looked to her eyes, reading intelligence there as well as curiosity. He looked closer, analyzing her further.

There was an air of loneliness about her.

He could use that, so he called her little witch and he deigned to allow her to use Marvolo as his name. All to establish some rapport.

He turned and drifted closer to one of the windows in her bedroom in order to get a better idea of where he was. He could tell by her accent that he had returned to England obviously, but where was the question?

“Marvolo? Where did you come from? Why are you here with me?”

She was certainly brave to question Lord Voldemort in such a manner. Of course, she didn’t know who he was and by the time she found out, it would already be too late.

He looked out the window, taking a moment to scrutinize the ordinary suburban neighborhood outside. In the idyllic scene of sunshine and swing sets, something caught his eye. Something looked strange at the neighbor’s across the street. He looked closer and saw that all of the roses were burned to a crisp. He smiled to himself. He had a feeling only one person in this Muggle neighborhood could have done that.

Yes, Hermione Granger had such potential.

“I’m here to be your friend of course. Your friend, and your friend alone. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Have a lovely weekend!


End file.
